


The Unresolved: Parallel History

by Of_Princes_and_Savages



Series: Unresolved Ever After [4]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Backstory, Do you want some exposition? Some exposition in a fiiiiic, Exposition, For details call 1-800-ReadMe, Lots of cameos and such here okay?, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Prophecy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-11-01 22:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20521574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Of_Princes_and_Savages/pseuds/Of_Princes_and_Savages
Summary: Ten years ago, the town of Storybrooke prepared for the worst when the Dark One harnessed the town's magic to break the curse on his pregnant wife. A number of citizens and new arrivals from recent curses jumped at the chance to evacuate to the old world. And that's where yet another story began.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was my birthday yesterday: I planned on posting this all in one go as a gift to Me because I've been trying to work out some details. But then it turned into four chapters of backstory, and I have to wrap up the fourth part still, but I'm impatient so here! Enjoy a side-story because I knew there was going to be too much information to digest in exposition in the main fic!

_ **10 Years Ago, Storybrooke Cemetery...** _

Papa wasn't coming back, but they were going home.

Back to the world Roland had grown up in, with it's tall trees and misty air and no root beer. He'd miss the root beer, and the playground, and Regina because she wasn't coming with them because she wasn't there. She hadn't been buried like Papa, she wasn't gone like that, but she had to leave town after the funeral. (Roland had never been to a funeral before, he supposed Mama had one but he didn't remember it. He felt very mixed-up because Papa was gone, and they were leaving town, but his sister was staying behind and Regina wasn't there.

Roland wasn't sure who the redheaded lady was, holding his sister. She'd been holding her at Papa's funeral, and none of the Merry Men would let him go near her. When Regina and that redheaded lady came over to them in the graveyard, (he decided they were sad, stupid, ugly places, that's what graveyards were,) Little John had passed Roland off to Friar Tuck and had them walk away.

"Who's that lady, Friar Tuck?" Roland asked at the time.

Friar Tuck was a short, chubby man, half-bald with little dark eyes like buttons and big hands that ruffled Roland's hair all the time. Like now. "She's...going to be minding your sister from now on, I think."

"Like Mary Poppins?" That was a movie they'd all watched, he and Papa and Regina and even Henry. Maybe because his sister was little, she couldn't go to the Enchanted Forest with them and Regina was going to take care of her. And 'cause she was mayor, she needed a nanny like Mary Poppins to look after her. Ah. That made sense. "Is her umbrella magic?"

"Ah...no, lad, I don't think so."

It didn't occur to Roland until much, much later that Friar Tuck hadn't just meant her umbrella wasn't magic.

But he'd given the redheaded lady a piece of arrow fletching from one of Papa's arrows to give to Regina, because if he couldn't say goodbye he wanted her to know he'd meant to. His baby sister was sleeping when he told her goodbye. He wasn't sure who was going to name her now. Maybe Queen Snow White could teach her how to fire arrows, and she'd learn how to climb trees and make tents from cloaks and blankets somehow. That was important stuff she ought to know.

And someone ought to name her.

* * *

** _10 Years Ago, Deep in the Enchanted Forest..._ **

Merida had been given an invitation to stay on as a member of Storybrooke's police force, (something like a royal guard, near as she could figure, a very sloppy and poorly manned guard,) when it became apparent she as expert at tracking and man-hunting as any of these Merry Men lads.

It was almost flattering. It was certainly nice to have her hard-earned skills acknowledged. It was all she could do not to laugh in Emma Swan's pasty face.

Merida had drawn on every queenly lesson on courtesy and diplomacy her mother had ever drilled into her to keep a straight face. Gods. What was in the water around this queer little kingdom that made them so...so...so entitled! Their bloody Savior had ripped out Merida's heart, kept her chained to that hideous yellow carriage until she decided the only way to make Rumpelstiltskin a hero was to kill Belle-_What sense did that make?!_ He'd had to fight a monster bear, if he weren't some sort of genius, Merida would have ended him, the missus, and herself in a way because the bloody Dark Swan wouldn't have any use for her after that, would she?

Fuck off!

They were a bloody useless royal guard too, that bastard Arthur had escaped their little brick jail because they hadn't put an adequate guard on him after they skipped off to rescue that arsehole that tried sending everyone to hell, because who cares? Why would she want to work with incompetent men and a woman who'd enslaved her again? Hmph. And they weren't in a hurry to send her home, either, not a soul in town! She was the bloody Queen of Dunbroch, did they really think she wanted to trade in the security of her kingdom and saftey of her people for...this?

The answer would be: No.

It was almost a relief when the former-but-somehow-current Dark One, Rumpelstiltskin, sent everyone into a panic. Merida heard Belle had gotten herself cursed somehow, she figured it would be agiven that when her lame husband would go up against a bear unarmed, of course he'd do anything to save the woman. And the town leadership was acting like it was the end of the world and had gone racing after him, leaving the town to fend for itself and just barely thinking to offer the people an evacuation route.

Merida didn't care about all that. She was just happy to be leaving. And she wasn't the only one.

They'd been spat out in the middle of the woods, and the refugees had set up camp to go their separate ways in the morning. Merida and the people of Camelot would be heading north in the morning, along with the Merry Men at her invitation.

Well, she'd offered anyone who didn't mind cold, damp weather and bickering neighbors that launched casual warfare to come to Dunbroch.

The Merry Men had agreed, or rather, their representative had asked if she had any positions available for men experienced in spying and sabotage. The representative introduced himself as Little John. But he was not little: He was both tall and broad, larger than any of the other Merry Men. Of course, the wee mite with big brown eyes and curly brown hair half-hiding behind his legs made the man a bit less intimidating. Merida winked at the lad and he scuttled further behind his giant guardian. Aww...

* * *

_ **10 Years Ago, Granny's Bed and Breakfast...** _

Quite a few of the Land of Untold Stories arrivals had scarpered when things got tense, leaping through that magic doorway in town back to another realm. He was as disinclined as his wife to do so, though. Besides. They could leave whenever they wanted, not at the behest of some tart with a magic stick.

"This town is a disaster," Subira reported, kicking her shoes off her feet, one whacking the wall and a muffled "hey!" followed from their neighbor. "I hear the mayor does a good job, when she bothers going to work. But the law office is so full of nepotism it's literally a father and daughter, and if there's a family emergency the people pick out a random pair of replacements depending on what's going on. Last time they put a pharmacist in charge. A pharmacist with hay fever."

He smiled. "What was that lovely saying you had for when we had the little inn back in the Land of Untold stories?"

Subira lifted her head up. He almost regretted it, really, her springy curls looked very lovely spread out around her on the bedspread. He'd have to remember that for later, he noted, as a sly little smile curled her lips.

"Stupid neighbors make safe neighborhoods?"

"Aye, darling, and I can't say we've ever had a safer neighborhood if the town government shuts down whenever the family goes on vacation." He tossed her the newspaper he'd been reading while she'd gone out to pick up some food from the dinner and gather information, a more colorful and neatly-printed affair than he'd had in his England. "Take a look at these property listings. There's a place on the waterfront I like the sound of, what do you think?"

* * *

** _9 Years Ago, South of Agrabah..._ **

There was no way to track the time she'd spent here. There was very little to do, very little to look at: Hot sand, hot rocks, hot pale sky lacking a sun but blindingly bright. It was rather unimaginative though. Locasta was the Witch of the North, so she'd been stuck somewhere south.

Zelena hadn't seemed very imaginative on the whole, though. Except for faking her death. Even a broken clock was right twice a day, wasn't that a saying?

Locasta sighed, nudging at some sand with the toe of her slipper. Glinda was the Witch of the South, (so...probably trapped in a winter dimension,) and her powers were derived from wisdom and knowledge. But Glinda was also nosy, always peeking in the Book of Prophecies she was supposed to be _guarding_, trying to fill their fourth seet in their order.

Locasta and Gingema had tried, (and _tried_,) to convince her that the right witch would appear when needed. Prophecies were always hampered by people trying to fulfill them too soon, or trying to prevent them. But, Glinda had persisted.

First, she'd been absolutely convinced the up-and-coming tyrant Zelena, who'd supplanted the Wizard of Oz and filled the woods around the Emerald City with flying monkeys that could have been anyone, once, was the fourth witch. Honestly, having three powerful women should have been a perfect number because that way, there was always a mediator. But they'd already decided to claim cardinal points, and Glinda would always bring up that prophecy...and, well, Locasta had thought if they gave Zelena a place among them, she'd soften. She'd forget her rage and find peace in their sisterhood.

Not exactly how it turned out, though...

It was, admittedly, not fair that they should dote so easily on sweet little Dorothy Gale when she was spit out of a twister, but it was especially unfair of Glinda to brush her hand-picked chosen one aside for someone new. It was really rather unfair and unwise of them, especially since they'd known all about Zelena's jealousy issues. It wasn't their best moment, but...at the same time...Locasta had seen Zelena's type before.

The Witch if the North drew her powers from love, from emotion. She was compassionate, arguably too passionate at times, but experienced enough to know love wasn't enough to fix the problems Zelena and people like her had.

They were victims. They had always been hurt by someone, a lot, and they felt unloved and bitter. And that meant they had a right to cut other people on their broken edges, to watch others bleed and feel justified in the suffering. Or at least in their minds they did. They liked being broken because it meant they weren't _really_ monsters, just victims striking out. A narcissistic belief that was all too common with tyrants, and Locasta was unsurprised when Zelena struck out at the Witches of Oz on her first full-fledged step to becoming one.

And there had been ages to reflect on it in this dull little bubble of heat and sand.

Until there wasn't.

The door to her dimension opened up, suddenly, and a tall, dark-haired woman came through with a crossbow. Her face was familiar, though stern a flushed from the heat of gods knew what realm her pocket dimension was set in. This far south it could have been Agrabah.

"Hello," Locasta greeted politely, for lack of anything better to say. She hadn't spoken to another person in...well.

"Locasta?" the woman said, looking taken aback, if only for a moment. "You've...not changed a bit."

"We've met before then? You do seem familiar..." Locasta frowned. Dark hair, dark eyes, blue dress...perhaps it was the loaded weapon throwing her off. She couldn't recall any warrior women coming before their order before.

The woman held the crossbow aside, performing a wobbly curtsy. Rusty and very out of practice. A wry little smile pulled at the corners of her mouth and her eyes softened enough that Locasta finally recognized them.

"It's been awhile, ma'am. I'm Dorothy Gale."

* * *

_**9 Years Ago, Mombi's Cottage...** _

The carpet bag was enchanted to contain anything that would fit through the open top of the bag, and that was quite a bit in Mombi's cottage as she flew around cramming things inside. Her books, her baubles, her trinkets, her potion equipment-Where was her good ladle?

Ozma had gotten Mombi's spells undone and put her little ass on the throne. That spelled nothing but trouble for the likes of Mombi. It used to be such a nice safe country for a witch to practice her dark arts, just where she'd been happy to retire with "Tip" to look after her in her old age. (Well...her retirement, at least.) Sure, she had a hand in deposing the Royal Family of Oz, but it had been the Wizard of Oz that handed off the little princess to her! He was far more at fault than she was!

Oh, sure she'd kept the child as a slave and intended to turn them into a marble statue after they'd sassed her one too many times-But it had all started when the Wizard secured his spot as the Wizard of Oz after he dumped the waif in her care.

But because no one had seen the Wizard since Lady Zelena took power in Oz, of course Ozma would come after her. Eventually. But Mombi planned to be long gone before that happened!

She'd been fortunate enough that the "captured Mombi" in the Emerald City at the moment was just a well-hexed log who looked and acted like she did. The enchantment wouldn't last long, but maybe just long enough for her to escape to...somewhere. Somewhere that wasn't here.

* * *

_ **9 Years Ago, The Emerald City...** _

Princess Ozma was perhaps fourteen, with delicate bone structure, shining dark eyes, and reddish-gold curls cut so short her lightly pointed ears stuck out further than her hair. Despite the fine, shimmering gown she wore and gold crown on her cropped hair and squirmed on the long-abandoned throne in a decidedly unqueenly manner.

But she was compassionate, open-minded, and honest, which was what Oz needed more than a refined lady who didn't lick her fingers at dinner. Zelena had styled herself a tyrant, longed to steal the life of queen away from her half-sister, but she'd done nothing to govern the Land of Oz while she'd held the Emerald City. Princess Ozma had spent the last fourteen years of her life serving a witch as a veritable slave, she knew the value of hard-work and how important it was to listen to workers. She was going to make a fine queen, but sadly, Mulan had no place in Oz now.

Dorothy had returned from Agrabah with Locasta, Mulan had fetched Glinda from the northern tip of Snow White's ancestral kingdom, and Ruby had travelled to the West to the edge of the Enchanted Forest, so close to Aurora's lands it was a wonder they hadn't tripped over the door when she and Aurora had been seeking Phillip years ago. They'd certainly found stranger things than a pocket dimension: Beanstalks, zombies, foul pirates, evil queens that had mothered _the_ Evil Queen...

_Anyway._

Mulan found herself lacking a purpose in Oz now that the three Witches of Oz,-the powerful "good" witches who had kept peace in Oz before Zelena banished them,-and Princess Ozma had returned to a seat of power to reorganize the land. She was a warrior, she knew how to fight and plan, but she knew very little about managing kingdoms and unbreaking countless hexes Zelena had inflicted on the people. She wasn't needed here, and there was nothing to tie her to Oz. Ruby would follow Dorothy to the ends of the earth and vice versa, but even if Mulan had someone like that...she wasn't sure she liked Oz.

It was a bright, vibrant, mess of a land. Everything had the potential to be magic, to be sentient, and it was a little much for someone as grounded as Mulan was. Or would like to be. She'd made a promise to herself after a tree came to life and lobbed fruit at them while they travelled her on the yellow brick road that she would not be staying here much longer.

"Well, I guess I understand what you're getting at," Princess Ozma, said, scratching her nose. Mulan hid a smile. "Oz is tricky to leave, from what I hear. But I'll ask the Witches of Oz to help you get home, I'm sure they know a way!"

"Thank you, your Majesty," Mulan bowed respectfully. Home. "I would greatly appreciate it."

"Aww, it's the least we can do for you, ma'am," the girl beamed. "You and Miss Dorothy and Miss Ruby did a lot for us! And you're always welcome if you ever wanna come back, don't forget!"

Princess Ozma was unlike any ruler Mulan had ever met, and she couldn't help but feel that was a good thing for a land unlike any she'd been to.

* * *

_ **9 Years Ago, Passing the Storybrooke town line...** _

August wasn't leaving forever.

Really.

But he just needed a little break from...this. He had a son he'd never imagined having, a baby-mama that thought he was an irresponsible idiot, a father who was probably deeply ashamed of him, and now his son was apparently magic. A magic half-fairy son. This was not what August signed on for.

A break, he just needed a break. Just for a little while...and he only packed up so much of his stuff because he wasn't sure what he needed, no, he absolutely wasn't flying the coop.

_Really._

And besides. It wasn't like he was doing much for Garrick anyway, what would it matter if he did?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Facts About This Chapter:
> 
> -Friar Tuck's appearance is based on the one from the Disney cartoon because it is a fantastic Robin Hood movie.
> 
> -The actress who played Merida was actually offered a guest-starring role in future seasons, but declined. I may have warped that with some ire here, but really, she's the freaking queen of a country and evil!Emma kidnapped her, do you think she'd want to stay? :/
> 
> -Gingema is the Witch of the East. She doesn't play a large role in this universe, but everyone needs a name, dammit. Her powers come from courage.
> 
> -Mombi and Ozma both come from The Marvelous Land of Oz, a sequel to The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, in which Ozma had been raised as a boy named Tip, (not disguised as a boy, "he" WAS a boy, just go read the plot,) until All Was Revealed. For the sake of my sanity, she's been a girl this whole time though. That doesn't matter too much in The Unresolved, but I figured it would be good to get some of that on the table since this is mostly information.
> 
> -I have never read The Marvelous Land of Oz, but it's stated in the material I *have* read that The Wizard of Oz was the one to give baby Ozma to Mombi, who'd also done away with Ozma's father the king before the Wizard arrived. This Ozma is my own creation, and I figured she wouldn't have magically acquired refined manners just by becoming a princess.
> 
> -Also Ozma is described as a "fairy princess" a few times, and if you remember the last time I posted in the Unresolved, Oz!fairies are about to become a thing. My canon for this fic states that the Royal Family of Oz are descended from fairies, hence the pointed ears, which are an easy way to point out: "Hey, you're magic."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two! Voila!

_ **8 Years Ago, Dunbroch Keep...** _

Merida had a bit of a conundrum on her hands, and for once, it wasn't the clans bickering about her unwed status. Once she'd been crowned queen, they'd slacked off on the _"you need a husband!"_ chatter and started pushing_ "you need an heir!"_ instead. It was annoying, but more important than a bunch of men wailing about her empty womb was the fact that the water around Dunbroch and it's isles were now teeming with danger. And not just rocks and tides.

Although she had never met one, Merida didn't not believe in merrows. Mermaids, others called them, half-fish, half-human fairy-folk that lurked under the water. After the entire incident with the witch and the bears and wisps, Merida didn't think it prudent to discount it when people started raving about merrows untying mooring lines and yanking fishnets away and trying to drown sailors who either fell in the water or were toppled when they overturned their small boats. She heard Young MacIntosh almost got pulled under recently, and while she bore no love for that numpty, this was getting dangerous.

However, there was a queen further to the south who might help them. If the rumors were true, at least, and all things considered, Merida couldn't say they weren't. So, she wrote a message and sent it to Maritine Kingdom in the south, and hoped the young queen wouldn't be too offended.

They got incredibly lucky, however, and Queen Ariel was more than willing to be of service. She in fact said she was pleased that Merida had gotten in touch with her instead of trying to attack the merfolk, (because as it turns out, Queen Ariel had been a princess to a merrow king of some kind, of course she was,) and came to Dunbroch immediately to help get to the bottom of the aggressions.

It was framed as a visit from foreign royals, though, because Merida and her mother both agreed the superstitious, suspicious clans around them wouldn't take kindly to this diplomacy. It had been very difficult to convince them that Merida was working on a solution and they shouldn't start hunting merrows, as Queen Ariel had been so pleased they weren't doing, (yet,) and hopefully they wouldn't start a war by spearing the Queen of Maritine now.

And so the act of trying to assuage the family of a mermaid who'd they thought had been kidnapped, inciting their riotous behaviors, began. A couple with a seaside cottage in Lord Dingwall's territory to the south had found her washed ashore in that awful storm last month and been nursing her injuries in a bathtub until the deep cut in her fin mended. Although a message-in-a-bottle had been sent, the merrow family had assumed it was a cry for help instead. It was a grand misunderstand that was taking awhile to smooth over, and in the midst of it all, it was a rather sweet distraction to see two children playing hide-and-seek around the castle.

Somehow, nine-year-old Roland Hood had become the self-appointed guide to three-year-old Princess Melody. She had King Eric's looks, sea-blue eyes and shiny dark hair. She never seemed to sit still for long and had a real knack for trouble, which meant she and Roland were sneaking all over the place during their visit.

They weren't the only ones sneaking, either. Hubert had been breaking away from his brothers and wandering off to the shore every chance he could, visiting with one of the pretty sisters of Queen Ariel that had arrived with word from their royal father, to thank Merida for not switching over to open warfare during the misunderstanding. Well. They already had one mermaid who'd married a prince..

* * *

_ **7 Years Ago, Somewhere in the Land of Oz...** _

The escape from Oz wasn't going so well...as in she hadn't escaped at all.

Mombi had managed, on sheer luck alone, to avoid being captured once her trickery was found out. She was constantly transforming, constantly moving to new places, constantly looking over her shoulder to be sure Dorothy Gale and her wolfish friend weren't behind her, or those dreadful witches. Or even that little snot of a princess and her stupid pumpkin-headed friend she'd escaped the cottage with.

It was just a setback, though, because she still hadn't been caught.

Yet.

* * *

_ **7 Years Ago, In the forest of Dunbroch...** _

Roland was an increasingly-skilled archer despite his youth, and he had developed a skill at padding around silently in dark corridors, picking locks and pockets, studying people, and he knew the importance of integrity, honesty, and courage, even to a thief. Especially to a Merry Man.

But there was something the Merry Men had been keeping from him since they'd left Storybrooke, despite their emphasis on honor.

It had taken a long time, and lots of frustrating changes of subjects cutting them off, but finally-finally,-Little John brought him out alone to the woods, sat them down on a log with a small fire warding off the early morning chill, and spoke about the redheaded woman who'd been holding his baby sister the last time he saw her.

Little John was always a big man, tall and stout with huge hands and a booming voice. But he seemed very small and fragile as he told Roland a tale of a witch, Regina's _sister_, who stole Mama's face and wore it for evil deeds, tricked Papa into giving her a child, and used that baby to save her own wicked skin. She'd done it to hurt people, because she was cruel and the worst kind of person, not for any love. Roland didn't remember this because he'd been given a potion to make him forget, and that made him angry. Not as angry as what Little John said next though:

"Regina was...she was a decent person, I suppose, but she was selfish. And stubborn. Robin was content to let the witch rot beneath the ground in prison for the rest of her days, far away from his family. For some reason, though, Regina had her own ideas about family." Little John snorted, showing what he thought of that idea. "After the funeral she talked to me about how it would be better to keep the baby in a nursery, that we could come and go as we pleased to see her, how she'd never keep you or us from your sister. But then she said it was important that Zelena keep _her_ baby, too. I saw through that right fucking quick, what she really meant was she was using the baby as a bribe, to win some sort of sisterhood or compliance from that madwoman."

_Little Hood._

Back in Storybrooke it was the name they'd used to refer to Roland's sister since she hadn't had a name yet and, well, she was a _Little_ Hood, daughter of Robin Hood. They didn't speak it often, now. Roland used to think it was the missing her, the wishing they were all together, that caused it, but now he knew it was guilt and shame too.

"Robin had told me the tale, once, how Regina's love for her son changed her. Don't know why she'd thought it work with a woman who'd never loved anyone in her gods-damned life, though. I know she didn't want the babe for love, at least not a mother's love, and we tried our best to think of a way to steal her away with us but...but...lad. The woman was _mad_. If we tried to take Little Hood back, that bitch would have snapped your neck first, then staked the rest of us in her yard as a warning for anyone else. I would have made a deal with the Dark One for my very soul to take her away, but, well, he wasn't in town at the time, that's all that stopped me I swear it-"

Roland didn't hear what else Little John had to say, he wasn't sure if he did say anything more, because his ears were filled with white-hot nose and his throat burned. He'd never been an angry person, but now his whole skin itched with it.

He was mad Little John-_all of the Merry Men_,-had never told him this. He was mad that Regina, who Papa had loved and had seemed to love them too, could do that when she knew what the witch had done. He was mad Papa was dead. He was mad that witch was still alive somewhere, that his sister was stuck with a monster. He was mad he was in another realm. He was mad he was a little boy who couldn't do anything about any of it.

Mostly he just sobbed all over Little John's tunic, until he had nothing left.

Then he went back to training with his bow.

* * *

_ **6 Years Ago, The Emerald City...** _

"It's pointless."

"It's lazy!"

"Locasta!"

"It is!" Locasta was, normally, very serene. But she couldn't help it, not when Glinda was so eager to put Mombi behind her just because they couldn't find her after four years of searching. Hadn't the princess warned she'd be clever, hadn't mischief sprung up everywhere there was a sighting of an old crone new to that area? "It is, and I will not abandon the search just because you want to move on to a new prophecy."

The word fell like a vulgarity from her lips, and she saw the slight twist of Gingema's mouth that meant she agreed. Locasta was the Witch of the North and drew her magic from love, Glinda was the Witch of the South and drew on wisdom. They were polar opposites, the fact that one's prison had been full of burning heat and one's prison full of cold snow was proof. As a trinity, the tie-breaker often came down to the Witch of the East, who was neither emotional or intellectual, drawing on courage for her strength. The one thing Locasta and Gingema both agreed on was that Glinda's penchant for trying to interpret prophecies was going to get them all in trouble.

_Again_.

Glinda looked deeply offended by the accusation, mouth pinched. (Locasta was too polite to mention it, but with her wide-set blue eyes and high forehead, she looked like a fish sucking sour candy when she did that.) "I am not abandoning the search when there's nothing to search for! We don't even know she's still in Oz, wouldn't she have made a move against Princess Ozma if she were?"

"She's not powerful enough. She can't attack a fairy princess backed by three powerful witches, she's in hiding, planning."

"You sound paranoid."

"You sound ignorant! And don't change the subject, you're attention is taken up by a few lines in a book you're supposed to be guarding, and you're going to try and force them to come true. _Again!_"

"I agree with Glinda," Gingema said plainly. She had an oval-shaped face, serious dark eyes and deep auburn hair, pewter cuffs hugging the outer shell of her ear. Her dress was a matte grayish material with black beaded patterns swirling at her sleeve cuffs. "The search for Mombi is fruitless, and we should focus elsewhere."

The sour-fish look was replaced by a more pleased expression. "There, see?"

"But I also agree with Locasta," she warned, narrowing her eyes at Glinda. "Meddling with fate was what got us trapped in prisons for years. Do you know how horribly dull it is to be surrounded by swirling clouds? It's worse than being trapped in a snow-globe, I promise you. I concede that Mombi has likely escaped from Oz by now, but we should also be practical enough to let destiny unfold on it's own. Interference will only make it worse."

As much as Locasta didn't want to give up on Mombi, she would admit keeping Glinda from meddling was a nobler cause. Especially when all Glinda did was huff, the white fur collar of her gown ruffling with the air, and change the subject.

* * *

_ **5 Years Ago, East of the Enchanted Forest...** _

Mulan was not much for religion. She supposed there was some nebulous higher power out there, but she wasn't sure if prayers and festivals and arguing over who was the true god would ever accomplish anything. Still, she said a quick prayer, the kind her parents always said for their ancestors, looking down at their graves with a dull ache.

The villagers had never liked Mulan because she was too independent, too brave for what was considered a proper young lady. Her refusal to marry a husband who could provide for her aging parents, choosing to care for them herself, had only earned her suspicious looks and mutters when they thought she was out of earshot. Her parents had accepted their daughter was not cut from the same cloth as a proper young lady, and were just pleased she'd come home. And she'd come home for _them_, not some snobby villagers.

Mulan was glad she'd spent the last four years in her childhood home with them, too. It had felt right. But after Father died sudden in his sleep, Mother's heart was too broken to carry on. She'd passed away not three days later and...it was strange to be an orphan, even as an adult.

She couldn't stay here, not now. She'd saddled her horse, packed provisions for a long ride west, as the Enchanted Forest was slightly more accepting of warrior-women than her lands were. Maybe she could visit a few old haunts, see if she could find a purpose there. Worst came to worst, she could always find her way back to Oz again.

(Though hopefully not, with no respect to any of the respected persons that lived there.)

* * *

_ **5 Years Ago, A castle in the Enchanted Forest...** _

It had taken years, actual _years_, to sneak out of Oz. She'd never realized how tricky it was until she'd tried it, had heard it was difficult, but goodness gracious, if it had taken any longer, Mombi would have turned herself over to that little ingrate Tip and been done with it.

But she'd finally done it, and now she was headed to the Dark Castle. Lady Zelena had been taught by the Dark One, the greatest sorcerer in the known realms, a man who's command of the dark arts was exceeded by no one. Hopefully, if the rumors were true, he had some notes behind from writing the Dark Curse that had caused so much upheaval in this land the last few years. Maybe, if she were lucky, she'd find enough notes to recreate the spell and send herself to the land Lady Zelena was imprisoned in.

Mombi had a book, water-stained and worm-riddled, parts of it entirely illegible. But she had this book nonetheless. A valuable book written by the fairies left to watch over Oz generations ago, with precious details about their spells and ways. It had been a mess when Mombi had gotten it, and her careful restoration work had only rendered about a quarter of it in a fit state to read. If you squinted. But it was enough that she'd found hints about a process in which the subject could gain phenomenal power, if only...if only...well, Mombi didn't _understand_ half of it.

There were perils to being self-taught.

Still, she persisted and once she spotted the fearsome-looking fortress, she knew she was in the right place. Surely she could sneak into the Dark One's abandoned castle, poke through his belongings, and find a way to reach Lady Zelena. If she got in the powerful witch's good graces with this information, perhaps she'd be pleased enough to grant Mombi more powers. Transformations came easily to her, most potions she could manage, but there was more she wanted to know. More she could use to fight back against those three bitches that were backing Ozma and turning the Land of Oz upside down with their foolish ways.

There was a slight hiccup in this plan, though.

This was _not_ the Dark Castle.

Mombi hadn't figured it out until she found a tower full of books and notes and scrolls and the like. There was a small letter mixed in with the rest of the parchment, a letter asking if it would be alright to call on Maleficent at a certain date, signed by a queen Mombi was unfamiliar with. Maleficent. The Dragon Queen. Oh dear. That wasn't part of the plan at all, Mombi had never accounted for dragons.

However...all was not lost. Maleficent still had an impressive collection of writings, the benefit of being functionally immortal. Mombi carefully combed through everything, and was delighted to find a few bits on fairy magic that helped her make heads and tails of the damaged Teachings of Lurline book she already had.

Yes. She needed to get this information to Lady Zelena...somehow...

* * *

** _4 Years Ago, Dunbroch Keep's courtyard..._ **

There was to be a grand feast held to honor the alliance between Dunbroch, Atlantica, and the Maritine Kingdom of King Eric and Queen Ariel, all celebrating a couple years ago when that merfolk conflict was brought to a peaceful end. It was _also_ a celebration declaring year-old Prince Fergus II as Queen Merida's heir, and commemorating the marriage between one of the queen's brothers and Queen Ariel's mermaid sisters.

It had taken people a bit to remember which of the many princesses with similar names had married which of the identical princes of Dunbroch. It had been Princess Andrina that had married Prince Hubert, apparently having formed a romance based on wits and humor. They stayed on land mostly, at a tidy little place built on the shore so that Princess Andrina's family could visit Fergie as often as his human relatives. Oh. Wait. Roland wasn't supposed to call him that, that was only for the royal family.

He blamed Melody. She only ever called her baby cousin _Fergie_ and she never stopped talking.

Melody was a funny little girl, or maybe little girls were just funny. She liked to follow Roland around when he family visited Dunbroch, ask him a million questions, and always tried to get him to take her to the shore so she could go swimming. Roland couldn't swim, and besides, the water was always freezing. Or maybe since the water was always freezing he'd never felt the desire to learn how. Either way, somebody would kill him if he let her catch cold, and no amount of sulking could change his mind.

It was times like that, though, that made him wonder if this was what having a little sister was like: Kind of annoying, kind of fun, she was as likely to get him in trouble with her love of water as he was in showing her how to pick locks on pantry doors so they could get at the sweets.

But Melody _wasn't_ his sister, and Roland supposed he always looked out for Melody because they were the same age, and he'd want someone looking out for his sister. Besides, he took his unofficial bodyguard duties very seriously. It was often said he took things too seriously for a boy of twelve, but he ignored that. He needed to take things seriously for reasons he wasn't ready to share yet.

His self-imposed maturity did mean that he was rarely considered "one of the kids" anymore. So today, he had been granted the responsibility along with some other not-quite-children of making sure the younger ones didn't kill each other when they were turned loose in the courtyard, so that the adults could prepare for the feast tonight without them underfoot.

Ewan and Esme, the year-older twins of a guard who had always been friendly, were standing with him. They both had sandy brown hair, straight as sticks, Esme's tied back with a gray scarf. Her eyes were also browner than Ewan's hazel ones, so they looked like regular siblings instead of identical like the princes. They were making plans beside Roland to win as many competitions as possible in the games being held tomorrow, between them, and trying to convince Roland to sign up for the adults' archery tournament because he was too good for the youth division.

(He'd love to really, but it was funnier to grin and watch Ewan squirm and Esme pout without a proper answer.)

And then, in the midst of all this, came a stranger escorted by two guards.

The stranger wore odd leather armor, and rode a black horse that looked a bit different than most breeds Roland had ever seen. One guard broke away to presumably tell someone about the stranger who didn't appear to be a prisoner, and a few kids started edging towards the stranger. Who, he noted as he got closer, was a woman who was...familiar, somehow.

She had dark eyes, and darker hair pulled out of her face in a more practical-than-pretty fashion. It was the armor, though, plates of studded leather, and a helmet like a dragon hanging off her saddle, that started ringing bells in his head.

"Who are you?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at her face, hoping to catch whatever he was missing. He also tried to keep a serious face on, like he'd seen guards and the Merry Men do when they were confronting the unknown.

"Mulan. I seek an audience with Queen M-"

"Mulan!" he blurted out, grinning widely as the pieces clicked into place. "I do know you, you were in the Merry Men!"

She blinked. Then a tiny smile curled her lips up. "Roland Hood. I don't believe it, what are you doing here?"

"He lives here!" Melody chirped, and behind him, he heard Ewan sniggering at the guileless answer. "Does that make you a Merry Woman? Do you live in the woods? Where's your green cloak?"

He remembered when he was little, he'd been really curious about Mulan himself. She _was_ the only lady in camp for awhile, way back when, and she still dressed different than everyone else. He forget why she left now, wasn't even sure she said goodbye or not, but he did remember her. He thought the rest of his family might actually be glad to see a familiar face too. "We do live in Dunbroch now, ma'am. If you're going to stay, maybe you'll see the others tonight."

"There's gonna be a feast!" another child added, ignoring the _'please don't speak to strangers'_ look on the guard's face at this point. "With entertainers and games and merrows!"

"Merrows?"

"Maybe you call them mermaids," Esme suggested. Her mother was a maid, the kind that tended to clothes and hair and the like, not dusting, so she had a grasp of proper manners and always tried to act like a lady. Except when she was angry. "They've come courtesy of Princess Andrina, she's wed to Queen Merida's brother Hubert. What business do you have with the queen, if I may ask?"

Mulan's smile widened. "I was wondering if she had any positions for an old acquaintance in her lands, but now I think I should like to stay for your feast if I can. I've never seen a mermaid before."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Facts II:
> 
> -Due to there being no official OUAT maps of the Enchanted Forest, (at least not that I can find,) I have no idea how far apart Dunbroch and Eric's kingdoms are, but my desire to have character interaction was greater than my knowledge of geography. My explanation is canon has done worse, and at least I intend to involve it in the plot instead of solely for giggles.
> 
> -Ariel's sister Andrina is the second-youngest, and according to the Disney wiki, the jokester sister. Seems fitting for one of Merida's traditionally mischievous brothers. She's the blonde one with the purple headpiece.
> 
> -Here is a tissue if you made it through Roland learning why his sister couldn't come with. *gives*
> 
> -Glinda strikes me as smart, but lacking in common sense. NOTHING GOOD EVER COMES FROM TRYING TO FORCE A PROPHECHY, NOTHING.
> 
> -I'm also slightly annoyed that we were given 3-4 witches who's powers were supposed to represent four virtues that got boiled down to McGuffins and never mentioned again so expect something to come from that in the future. Because I am a goblin mining for missed potential.
> 
> -My plan for an asexual Merida (because not every woman uninterested in men is a lesbian,) was overridden by my long-seated need for Mulan to get some love instead of being a perpetually-alone-gay, so, BraveWarrior is a thing. As one does.


End file.
